


Coach Tachibana's Secret Wife

by KireinaAme



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:09:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11338842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KireinaAme/pseuds/KireinaAme
Summary: Not only were bets made in an unofficial office pool guessing who “Haruka” was but if the secret was discovered by a particular person then they would get a share of the prize as well. It also went without saying that, should Tachibana prove to be unattached and available, it was every man or woman for themselves in being the first to snag a date with the most eligible bachelor in the entire prefecture (as far as the school district’s sports department was concerned, of course).God save Coach Tachibana Makoto, thought most of his colleagues.





	Coach Tachibana's Secret Wife

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is based on a request I received on tumblr months ago. Unfortunately life had been pretty crappy for me over the winter/early spring but I was finally able to complete it! It's not exactly what the request asked for but this idea came to me directly from their message! I hope you enjoy it!

There was a bet going around the sports education department. See, there was this one guy, a young assistant coach on the elementary school’s swim team that did double-work as the head coach for the community’s swimming classes. Coach Tachibana Makoto. He was a graduate from some impressive school in downtown Tokyo and a miracle-worker with even the toughest of cases with those little kids. And he was nice. Not regular ‘nice.’ _Really_ nice. _Unimaginably_ nice. There were rumors about him being _too_ perfect so he obviously had to be hiding some kind of dark past or secret identity, like in a witness protection program or something!

But that wasn’t even what this particular bet was about. For all of this guy’s kid-whispering skills and unshakeable nice-ness, what everyone was curious about was whoever was on the other end of his cell phone every time it beeped! There were only a handful of times that anyone caught Coach Tachibana actually taking a phone call but over the course of a normal work day he would send and receive at least a dozen different messages, supposedly all from the same “Haru” or “Haruka,” judging from what the rest of the crew was able to overhear or spy on that small LED screen.

Tachibana checking his messages with a secretive smile on his face had become a predictable part of the day. Ashikaga comes in sleep-deprived and hung over. Takana goes to the bathroom after every swim to fix her hair. Fujikawa sleeps in his car during breaks. Hirose tells the worst delivered jokes. And Tachibana checks his phone.

Now it wasn’t abnormal for the faculty to have their personal cell phones on them during work and certainly no one held back in checking them between classes or on breaks. Coach Tachibana wasn’t in any trouble for his behavior at all. It started out merely as general curiosity. Most of the team either casually announced their relationship status, some of them looking to see who was available for drinks after work rather than needing to hurry home to someone waiting, or would at least explain away unexpected phone calls, such as “I have to leave early today to pick up my sick daughter.”

But not Coach Tachibana Makoto. He walked the line between polite information-sharing and secretive, yet guileful, deflection. Mix this with a generous helping of unspoken desire from some of the unattached personnel on the crew who appreciated the tall, well-built “nice”‑machine that was Tachibana Makoto, and a department-wide betting pool was born.

Not only were bets made in an unofficial office pool guessing who “Haruka” was but if the secret was discovered by a particular person then they would get a share of the prize as well. It also went without saying that, should Tachibana prove to be unattached and available, it was every man or woman for themselves in being the first to snag a date with the most eligible bachelor in the entire prefecture (as far as the school district’s sports department was concerned, of course).

_God save Coach Tachibana Makoto_ , thought most of his colleagues. Yet all were unwilling to reveal the less than ethical secret gossip to him, none wanting the burden or responsibility to expose it and risk disappointment or anger. Even his closest, most amiable coworkers with no possibility of personal investment in his romantic life chose not to ruin the fun. They too were beyond curious, amused, and anxious to see how the bet played out.

Needless to say, none were prepared for the curve ball thrown at them. How do you split the prize money when no one _truly_ won?

* * *

“All right, kids! Settle down,” Makoto laughed, his hands outstretched in a motion to calm the more than a dozen hyper children hopping around the slippery floor of the pool room. Their endless chatter echoed loudly, the pleasant sound bouncing against the surrounding tile of the expansive space, and lit a wide smile across the young swim coach’s face.

“Everyone did wonderful today. I can’t believe how fast you all picked up on the breast stroke! I think we’ll close out the week tomorrow with a relay as a celebration. What do you think?” he asked, an expectant tilt of his head emphasizing his offer.

The answer was a unanimous cheer from all fifteen of the elementary-school children, requiring yet another wave of his hands and a gentle but stern reminder of the hazards of slipping on the wet floor to calm them down. This was Makoto’s life’s calling and every single smile, unrestrained giggle, and bright-eyed look sent another warm feeling of fulfillment straight to his heart.

He hoped that at least a few of the kids found a source of joy through their swimming. Not to mention the thought that the country’s future Olympic swimming genius might be among his class was thrilling. But more than that, Makoto hoped that perhaps, for at least one of them, swimming would become the path that led them to their destiny – to their future happiness – just as it did for him. After all, it had been through an epiphany brought on swimming that Makoto had bonded with and fallen in love with his other half. He wasn’t sure where he would be without –

His watchful eyes caught the small figures of his students good naturedly shoving each other as they sped through the routine clean-up motions at the end of practice, ending his reminiscing.

“Don’t forget to put your boards on the bottom rack before you go into the locker room. Remember, no running!” Makoto watched in obvious amusement as they all rushed to the wall lined with a few shelves to hold the swimming gear, their legs stiff at their knees in their attempt to avoid running by simply walking as fast as possible, nudging each other aside to get there first.

Makoto shook his head and chuckled, one hand lifting to run fingers through his wet and unruly hair, pushing it off his forehead. He must have been lost in thought, his mind lingering a little too long over the person waiting for him at home, because the soft noise of a cleared throat at his side brought him back.

“Tachibana-kun,” one of his female coworkers nodded politely at him, her dark eyes catching his attention as she fluttered her eyelashes with a shy smile on her face.

_Ah_ , Makoto realized. She was flirting. That always made him feel uncomfortable. He fought against the urge to nervously squirm in place and instead offered his own nod and smile back at her. She giggled, one hand lifting daintily to her mouth as the other held something out for him.

“I brought your cell phone for you. I heard it ring while you were in the pool with the kids earlier and thought it might be important.”

“Ah, thank you, Tanaka-san.”

Makoto took the cell phone, his lips frozen in his amiable smile, those muscles honed to perfection to hold that expression for as long as needed in situations such as this one. After an extended pause, he realized she wasn’t leaving, her own eyes glued on him and her body making no indication she had somewhere else to be. It was always so awkward to check his phone when there was an audience, even if they couldn’t see the messages or read his mind, but Makoto found himself never able to ignore them in preference of spending valuable time to seek out solitude. Every call, every message, felt like a precious little gift and he refused to take them for granted or wait longer than necessary to enjoy them.

Making up his mind to continue on, despite the prickly feeling of eyes watching him from so close, he flipped open his cell phone. One missed call and one text message sent soon after flashed on the screen. The sender was listed as _Haru-chan_ _❤_ , which warmed Makoto’s heart and put crinkles next to his eyes as he remembered the cute reaction it caused when Haru had seen the label he put in his phone.

With just a few quick clicks, Makoto pulled up the text message. Green eyes widened as an unconscious grin pulled at the corners of his lips, the rest of the tension in his cheeks from the forced smile immediately alleviated.

\-----------------------

_You left your lunch._

_I’m on my way._

\-----------------------

Despite knowing that it might border on ridiculous how excited he was to see Haru unexpectedly in the middle of the day, Makoto simply couldn’t help himself. On top of how sweet it was that Haru would go out of his way just to ensure Makoto ate his meals, he always made Makoto’s lunch from scratch when he was home and able to.

It was more than just that though. Haru usually preferred his days off from training in peace and quiet, staying away from crowds of people, especially the nosey kind who would recognize him as the amazing free swimmer he was. Despite there being a pool at Makoto’s workplace, which would normally be pretty tempting, the ever increasing odds of him being asked to perform, answer questions, or provide autographs because of his professional status had worn him down. On his off days, Haru could more likely be found appreciating the privacy of the tamed water in their large bathtub. It made Makoto happier knowing Haru was getting his fill of time spent in the water enough that he would willingly turn down the opportunity to swim in an indoor pool away from his coaches to rest instead.

Makoto knew it meant Haru had found his peace.

Now, for the first time since he took the position within the prefecture’s athletics department almost a full year earlier, he would get to see Haru in the middle of his work day when he normally wouldn’t. Just another gift Makoto was more than grateful for. Maybe he could even excuse himself from the usual small talk and socialization of the break room and share his lunch with Haru outside, just the two of them.

It felt so amazingly domestic and routine Makoto just wanted to revel in it!

Oh, wait. Domestic. _Right._

Makoto sighed through his smile, tapping a few buttons to save the special message from Haru. After all, it would mark the first time Haru brought him lunch at work. Suddenly his excitement in his chest changed. He worried that having lunch together, especially the intimacy of sharing a single bento and pair of chopsticks between them, could not be played off so innocently as it used to be when they were younger. It could expose the truth of what they really were to each other.

He was the one who originally proposed that they keep their relationship secretive, not for the purposes of treating it as something shameful or dirty, but to protect Haru. After all, the world of competitive athletics on top of both national and international media could be quite cruel. He could never let himself act with selfishness or ego when it came to his love. The risk to Haru’s career, his dream, was too great. He could pretend that all they were to each other were close childhood friends if it meant securing Haru’s happiness.

Haru, on the other hand, had all but rolled his eyes at Makoto when they first discussed it.

_“Makoto, you’re starting to sound paranoid… even for you.”_ Haru had smirked over his shoulder.

_“I can’t help but be – hey! What do you mean ‘even for me’? Haruuu!”_

Haru tried to tell him that the world was changing and, even if it wasn’t, he refused to feel ashamed or let it force him into hiding who he was. Of course Haru wasn’t like some other athletes with the same problem, he wasn’t about to outright challenge the system into accepting him. Haru didn’t care about that; it wasn’t his goal. However, he would not let the status quo control him nor his love life, he had said.

He had said it was so much conviction that Makoto felt himself waver. He could see himself in the bleachers with the rest of the team family members and partners rather than the general public, cheering his boyfriend on openly from the stands. He could see Haru introducing him as his boyfriend to the rest of the Olympic team. Makoto could see him doing the same for his coworkers.

Makoto’s heart pounded at the thought, a heavy pounding within his chest. Still, he should probably not let himself be so careless. With Haru not taking the dangers of being outed seriously at the time, Makoto had taken it upon himself to make the decision. It was not an easy thing to do, but it was for Haru.

Was he really going to risk all of that, change it at the drop of a hat, to have lunch together?

“That must have been your wife,” Tanaka-san giggled, her hands clutched tightly together in front of her as she rolled from her heels to the balls of her feet and back. “Or maybe she’s just your girlfriend?”

Makoto felt caught and cornered as he struggled not to visibly react, his only motion was his thumb flicking his phone closed as he blinked at her. “W-what? Why would you say that?”

The woman tilted her head, her eyes curiously glancing at the phone in his hand as a corner of her mouth lifted in a teasing smile. “Just a guess but… whatever that was about sure made you look happy, Tachibana-kun. Or maybe I should say, _who_ _it was from_?”

Oh. Makoto swallowed and mentally recited _stay calm_ to himself. That was the closest to a direct question about his relationship status he had received so far. He knew some of his coworkers were curious (it really wasn’t hard to pick up) but he didn’t think even those from other sports or class levels were out to glean the information from him too!

“Um… did I?” Makoto felt his eyes squint under the pressure of his nervous smile as he scratched an imaginary itch on his cheek. “That is, don’t I always? Look happy, I mean.”

“Mmmm,” she hummed in thought, her eyes already narrowed into a look that said she wasn’t buying it while still maintaining a light and friendly air. “Not _that_ happy, no.”

“Ah, well, it’s just… It’s not… really…”

Makoto really wasn’t sure what he was in the process of saying, his mouth running itself as his brain struggled to keep up and form a coherent thought worthy enough to send out. Thankfully he verbally flailed for only one long, lingering moment before the large door that separated the pool offices from the rest of the facility jerked open. One of the front office attendees poked his head in and shouted out into the entire pool room.

“Tachibana!”

As if the worker hadn’t yelled for only Makoto’s attention, every single head in the room turned toward him as the door opened wider to admit a new person.

“You have a visitor!”

A curious hush fell over the staff. Some tried to be subtle in their staring as their eyes peered over clipboards. Some whipped their heads between the unknown visitor and Coach Tachibana, openly on pins and needles waiting to figure out the connection between them. Others openly gawked the somewhat familiar young man slowly making his way towards Makoto.

For his part, Makoto’s thoughts on the nosiness of his peers evaporated, no longer paying them any heed as his eyes locked onto Haru’s. Haru offered no greeting to the other staff members, he didn’t even glance at the pool water, as his feet carried him in front of Makoto. In one hand, a homemade bento, immediately standing out as special since it wasn’t sealed in plastic or covered in cling wrap, signs it was bought from the local convenience store. But it was those deep sapphire eyes locked on Makoto’s, holding a soft glint of knowing amusement, that caused Makoto to lose the war with the light dusting of pink that spread across his cheeks.

Makoto felt like such a teenager again. At least he could tell that Haru knew this was special too, small but significant.

“Hi, Haru,” Makoto greeted with a tender voice, Haru rewarding him with a growing smile and a soft greeting in return.

The entire pool room of employees collectively gasped, Makoto’s fuzzy thoughts occupied by Haru quickly clearing as his head whipped away from those eyes, remembering their audience. He felt his face grow warm under their rapt attention, his mouth opening in hopes that at least a few intelligible words would magically fall out that’d make everyone go about their business. He wasn’t even sure what had brought on such a strong reaction. Perhaps they recognized Haru and were surprised that Makoto knew a professional swimmer, especially enough to have that swimmer bringing him lunch personally. Or maybe it was something more embarrassing and they could see Makoto’s feelings written all over his face; his adoration for Haru being one of the few things he had never in his life been able to successfully hide.

Haru simply chuckled, seemingly unconcerned about everyone else but endlessly entertained at Makoto’s expense. The sound brought Makoto’s eyes back to sapphire as Haru lifted his arm to hand over the forgotten lunch, the bento box delicately and flawlessly wrapped in a pale orange clothe. It was hard to see when tied into the perfect knot but Makoto knew that in the corner of the clothe there was a small black and white orca embroidered into the corner. Stitched in completely by hand using thin, slightly glossy threads, the little whale required a delicate talent and plenty of patience to complete. It was part of his gift to congratulate him on getting the job. Another one of the small but significant things.

“Oh! Ah, thank you,” Makoto blinked back to the present and carefully took the wrapped lunch. He stumbled a bit with his words, still unbalanced from the odd attention but also with the weight of affection tipping the scales of his decision. _He was going to do it._

“Ne, Haru, would you… like to stay for lunch?”

Haru glanced down at the single bento, back up to Makoto’s eyes, and then for a split second out to the athletic department employees, all whom were still pretending that they weren’t glued to the scene. Haru definitely recognized the risk.

Makoto bit the corner of his lip and swallowed; he knew what he was asking. It could undo all of the work he had done to keep everything vague and elusive. It was just too great a temptation, too meaningful, to pass up – Haru bringing him a homemade bento to his work during his break, seeing him walk so confidently pass every coworker, knowing they were all watching him yet keeping those eyes for Makoto alone. Not to mention that Makoto knew that every single detail was planned purposefully by Haru himself. The single lunch in his hands, the fact that he personally hand-delivered it rather than leaving it on his desk or with the office assistant, the sly glances at him through dark lashes. They were all devious, powerful, but not by accident. Haru was offering, providing an opportunity.

And Makoto’s heart was so weak for him.

“I promise to share,” he offered, gesturing to the lunch in his hands, his smile awkward and shy from the fluttering in his stomach.

Haru glanced down at the lunch in mock consideration, pretending to think it over. The pause was still enough to have Makoto tightening his muscles to stop himself from shuffling in place. Then Haru raised his eyes to meet Makoto’s once again.

“I would like that,” he softly answered through a smile that had Makoto’s heart once again thumping hard against his rib cage.

Then to his surprise, and the shock of everyone around him, Haru turned his body to stand at Makoto’s side and slipped his arm through Makoto’s own. Haru’s slender fingers rested in the crease of his elbow and gave a gentle squeeze as he peered at him through his dark lashed.

Just as Haru whispered “lead the way” the entire pool room practically shook from the volume of the collective gasp of the entire staff witnessing. Fast enough that Makoto would swear he got whiplash, his head shot up and his eyes widened at the scene of his peers gawking at them openly. Makoto scanned the faces in silent fear, searching for judgement, for hatred, for disgust.

A shaking breath left him when he saw none. What stared back at him was mostly surprise and shock, other more subtle emotions mixed in that Makoto couldn’t read. There were hands covering gaping mouths, some hands clutched to chests, some lips were stretched in hesitant smiles, joy or humor he was unsure. With a quick glance at his boyfriend, Makoto saw that Haru had no reservations or hesitation whatsoever. He barely spared a glance once again to everyone else, the gaze cursory at best, before meeting Makoto’s eyes. His expression was soft and comforting, the slight pull of his lips bolstering to his confidence.

But… did Haru plan this much?

Before he could contemplate further on that Tanaka jumped in front of them, grinning from ear to ear and hands clasped together under her chin, the rest of the staff moving in behind her. “So this is your Haruka?!” she practically squealed, her voice echoing in the pool room.

“M-my…?!” Makoto stumbled, his face heating further until it felt like his ears would catch his hair on fire.

“Nanase Haruka,” Haru’s voice cut through the growing whispers, capturing Makoto’s attention once again. With a calmness that Makoto greatly envied he met Tanaka’s eyes and bowed his head. “Nice to meet you.”

“Stop!” Hirose pushed to the front in a rush of energy, his eyes as wild as his voice. “You’re Nanase, as in the _Olympic swimmer_ Nanase?!”

There were more gasps and muffled chattering for only a moment until Fujikawa howled, shoving Hirose to the side. “The Olympic _gold medalist_ swimmer Nanase?!”

The crowd was excited and closing in on them, as if they were meeting a popular television idol or movie star. Haru didn’t budge but Makoto knew the only thing that kept him from thoughts of tactical escape was the weight of Haru’s arm linked to his, grounding him to the spot and under the stares of all his coworkers.

“Wait a second,” Fujikawa thrust his arm out, unconsciously halting the staff’s progression as he slowly blinked at them. “Haruka as in Makoto’s cell phone Haruka? That Haruka? It’s him?”

The tension of the moment was cut, as tangible as an overfilled balloon releasing all its air. Most of the team groaned at the man’s slowness, a few even choosing to slap the back of his head with scolds to ‘ _pay attention!_ ’ and ‘ _were you sleeping in your car again?_ ’ and ‘ _are you ever really awake?_ ’

After the pool room filled with laughter, the prying and intrusive aura ceased, becoming a friendly welcome. Makoto officially introduced Haru to his professional team and, even without the direct words to indicate his position, most of them recognized what Haru was to him immediately. They bowed and shook hands with open acceptance, putting Makoto’s paranoia to rest for at least the time being.

Although there was one thing that caught Makoto’s paranoid attention…

Fujikawa had turned toward a group of coworkers and had interrupted their conversation to ask, “hey, then who gets the money? Did anyone win? I don’t think anyone won.”

There were quick whispers about ‘girlfriend,’ ‘wife,’ and ‘Haruka’ and that was all it took for Makoto to forget what he had been saying.

“Wait, what?” Makoto blinked at his peers, curious and worried about their lack of immediate explanation coupled with the sudden silence. They all averted their eyes as Makoto continued, “What money? Win what? What’s he talking about? ….Hey, why isn’t anyone looking at me?”


End file.
